


Winterfair 2012 - It's a Promotion, Honest!

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For alessandriana: Ivan being (reluctantly) competent-- whether because he's been dragged into yet another of Miles' adventures, or just solving problems in the course of his day-to-day job. (Would love it if Gregor got involved!)</p><p>An AU where Miles didn't develop seizures. Takes place after Vorberg's rescue and before other events in Memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winterfair 2012 - It's a Promotion, Honest!

“So it’s settled. We give him the promotion first. Then he’ll be in a good mood.” Gregor paced across his office, stared unseeingly out the window, then headed back to his desk.

“Yes Sire. Unless you think that the promotion might…” Simon Illyan hesitated, “…er… might restore his good mood. After you give him the other news.” Simon picked up his coffee mug, stared at it, and put it down again.

Ivan watched in resigned misery as the two calmest, most controlled men in the Empire fidgeted around the room. He was doing his best to become invisible, with little success.

“Maybe we should do this at Impsec headquarters, after all. For…containment.” Gregor fiddled with the light pens on his desk.

“You’ve stationed extra armsmen outside, Sire? And the medical team is on call?”

Ivan would have started with a dose of tranquilisers in the coffee. He was apparently here as the Miles-expert, although they hadn’t taken his advice. Gregor thought that sedation and soft restraints to start the meeting off were a bit over the top. Ivan thought they were simply a sensible precaution, but then he was the one who had to deal with Miles when things went horribly wrong, as they so often did. He sighed silently and tried to blend into his chair.

“Haroche is a good man. A few years working for him and Miles will be ready to step into my shoes. With another promotion… we should emphasise the second promotion too…” Simon was trying to convince someone, I van wasn’t sure who. Maybe he was just rehearsing. Ivan started checking escape routes. 

Quick footsteps in the corridor made everyone in the room freeze. An armsman tapped softly on the door, then leaned into the room, nodded, and hurried out again. 

All three men were barely breathing, totally silent, eyes fixed on the doorway. 

A small figure swung into the room, energy almost crackling off him. He snapped to a close imitation of attention and waved a salute, “Sire.” Then turned to face Simon and repeated the gesture, “Sir.” He looked over at Ivan curiously, nodded, and turned back to Gregor, “Is it a mission? Must be something special to call me here, is there some problem with Impsec? Something happening at Cockroach Central? Or is there a leak in the organisation? Or is this one more diplomatic than mercenary? We got Vorberg back so easily, is it another retrieval? I like daring rescues. Or are we twisting the Cetas tails again? I have a few ideas about that, too.” 

They all waited for the questions to finish. Ivan tried to edge his chair further from Ground Zero.

Finally the excited questions ran down. Miles was practically bouncing on his toes in excitement. Ivan reflected that, in his own mind, Miles probably thought he was being cool, calm and collected. Ivan was glad he wasn’t in Miles’s mind. Ever. Halfway across the office was too close. Halfway across the planet would be better.

Gregor waved Miles to the chair carefully placed not too close to the desk. Miles threw himself into it, gazing expectantly at his Emperor.

His Emperor sat down, very carefully, and watched Miles from across the desk. Ivan frowned, it was a typical unfair advantage, having a desk to hide behind just because you’re the emperor. Simon took a seat beside Gregor. That left the innocent bystander closest to the unexploded bomb. Ivan moved to the far side of his chair – every centimetre counted at times like this.

They all waited for Gregor to start. No wonder nobody else in the family wanted to be Emperor. Ivan wished he wasn’t even an Imperial cousin. Streetsweeper, maybe. Now that would be a nice safe job. Nothing to worry about but feral pigeons, and people who couldn’t aim straight to throw their rubbish in the bins. He could handle streetsweeper. 

Gregor cleared his throat.

Or the man who painted the markings on the roads. That was a great machine, all he had to do was sit there and push a few buttons. And he didn’t even have to do it in bad weather. Perfect job. Where do you apply for a job like that?

“Now, Miles, we have some good news.” 

Florist. Flowers weren’t dangerous. Unless you were allergic to them.

“Miles, congratulations, you’ve earned your promotion to Captain.”

Ivan hated seeing the joy on Miles’s face. When he was that far up it meant the following crash would be even worse. Accountant. He could go to accountant school and be an accountant. Nothing interesting ever happened to accountants. 

“… and along with the promotion we have a new job for you.”

Oh yes. Crash. 

“…new job?” Miles’s voice was very quiet. It was always bad when Miles was quiet.

Gregor ploughed on, “Yes, you’re being promoted to a new job. In Impsec. Domestic Affairs.”

Ivan waited for the detonation.

It was spectacular. 

Miles was on his feet, pacing the office, almost bouncing off the walls. He didn’t yell at Gregor – just barely. He was icy, furious, entreating, reasoning, shouting, babbling. He ignored the quiet explanations from Gregor. He didn’t acknowledge the crisp orders from Simon. If he was two and a half decades younger they’d call it a phenomenally impressive tantrum. He was desperate, frantic to make them understand that he couldn’t stop – the little Admiral couldn’t – he had to go on – there was so much more to do – they needed him – Naismith must live!

Gregor was looking frayed, Simon was almost twitching. Miles wasn’t anywhere near stopping – he seemed to think that as long as he kept talking there was a chance to change the decision.

Finally, Ivan shot him.

After Miles hit the floor there was blessed silence. Ivan sighed, stood up and walked over to the quivering mass of psychoses that was glaring at him from ankle level, drawing breath to protest at the sneak attack.

Ivan leaned down, grabbed Miles by the front of his tunic and deposited him back on his chair. “You can still speak, but I don’t advise it. I only stunned your legs, but if the noise continues I’ll do it again, more thoroughly, and put you out of our misery. And before you start, yes I have permission to draw a weapon in the Presence. Special cousinly dispensation. I had to promise that if I shot a relative today it wouldn’t be Gregor. Even gave an oath on it. And you, Lord Vorkosigan, gave an oath to your Emperor too.” He leaned closer and spoke very quietly, each syllable striking with the weight of a death–knell, “You. Are. Not. Naismith.” He waited a moment, but there was no answer, just a deadly glare. “Miles, Naismith is a fake. He was a hollow creation, and then you poured yourself into him. One drop more and Naismith will have taken you all. It’s time to find Lord Vorkosigan again. How much of your time in the last few years was Vorkosigan, and how much was Naismith? He’s taken more and more of your life. He’s nearly got you killed, over and over again. He’s had all the fun – how many women has Naismith bedded? I lost count ages ago. And how many women have opened their arms to Miles Vorkosigan?”

He stepped back, “Miles, it’s time you came home. To yourself. Before Naismith eats you alive.”

The room was silent for a long moment.

“What will happen to the Dendarii?” Miles’s voice was subdued.

Simon spoke up, “Quinn can take over, we’ll see if she delivers results.”

“Can I… can I go out one more time? Just to … to tie off loose ends… say goodbye…”

Gregor looked at Simon. “Uh…”

“I’ll go with you.” Ivan smiled grimly, “To make sure you have a safe trip home.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Miles could snap at Ivan, the only person in the room who didn’t outrank him. 

“I’ll just go along for peace of mind.” Ivan’s voice had a steely ring that was new to two of the men in the room. 

Miles hunched his shoulders and muttered, “Whose?”

“Anyone who needs it. Now, are your legs working yet? It was only light stun.”

“Soon. And that’s another thing, you didn’t have to – “

“Yes I did. Now stop whining and listen to the rest of it.”

Gregor forced his mind back to Miles’s career path, although he was still stunned at this display of Miles-wrangling. “After a few years in Domestic Affairs –“

“And that’s another thing – why Domestic Affairs? I’ve never done Domestic. Galactic would be better…”

“….after Domestic Affairs, which you need to round out your experience…” Gregor ploughed on, “You’ll receive another promotion. And a new job. Head of Impsec.”

Miles stared at him, “But Simon’s head of…”

“Retiring. In five years.” Simon’s voice was crisp.

“Impsec? Head of Impsec? But it’s a horrible job! And I’d hardly ever get out of the building, let alone off planet…”

“What you meant to say, “ Ivan stepped forward and dragged the still-mumbling Miles to his feet, “Was ‘Thank you Sire for this wonderful opportunity. I will finalise my affairs with the Dendarii and return with all speed to take up my new job.” He twitched Miles like a puppet and then turned him towards the door, “And now if I may be excused, Sire, is what you want to say, I need to pack my gear and get going. Faster gone, faster back again. That’s what you mean to say, yes?”

“You don’t need to drag me around!”

“No, but it’s fun.” Ivan headed out the door with a grumbling Miles dangling from his grip. In the doorway he turned and nodded, “Told you a gag would be a good idea. We’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Don’t worry, he won’t run. He’ll have settled down by the time we get back.”

Two deep breaths, two sighs of relief.

“That went…”Gregor couldn’t manage ‘well’. “That went… interestingly. Ivan. Who’d have thought…?”

Simon leaned back and tried to wriggle the tension out of his shoulders, “Ivan’s had years of practice. We have tended to use him as a buffer between the world and Miles.”

“And for odd high-security jobs. And family business – also usually high-security. And for… rather more than I’d realised.” Gregor tapped on the desk, “Ivan’s always been careful to appear… less. I wonder if it’s time that we rediscovered Lord Ivan Vorpatril, along with Lord Vorkosigan.” His smile grew, “Simon… I think Domestic Affairs needs two new officers, not just one. After all, Miles will need a trusted assistant, when he heads Impsec.” 

Simon tried to tone an evil grin down to calm compliance, “Of course, Sire. I’ll start the paperwork today. It’ll be all finished by the time they get back.” He paused, “Are you sure… they’ll both come back?”

Gregor nodded firmly, “Ivan will bring him back if he has to shoot him – again – and drag him all the way. And he’ll enjoy it, too.”

“Yes, sire. And are you sure they’ll both… be happy working together for Impsec?”

“Well… “ Gregor leaned back comfortably, “Let’s see what happens.”


End file.
